


Cut Through the Noise

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Canon, Protective Siblings, Secret Relationship, Shovel Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “Quit looking at me like that,” Sammy mumbles, staring at the floor instead of her. “I hate it when you look at me like that.”“I hate it when you flirt with my brother, so I’d say we’re even,” Lily’s voice is somewhat cheerful, but Sammy isn’t fooled. She's going to string his lifeless body up from the ceiling one of these days.





	Cut Through the Noise

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the fic with the similar themes to the opening scene I last posted. Basically, Lily is annoying but not wrong. Hope everyone enjoys!!

Sammy’s alone in a room with Jack.

Sammy is rarely, if ever, left alone in a room with Jack. They’re sitting on the same couch, even. Only a foot or so of space between them. Not an unmanageable distance. Sammy could even scoot a little closer. Reach out to touch him if he wanted.

Sammy looks at his hands, then across the foot of space at Jack’s hands. Tries to imagine what it would be like if he reached across to take one of them in his own. Calloused, probably. Jack plays rugby and works outside. Maybe a little clammy, if Jack’s as aware of their status of being alone together Sammy is right now.

Jack’s half-looking at Sammy, shifting to fully look him in the eye once he notices Sammy’s intent gaze. Sammy didn’t mean for the intensity that he knows he has, but he and Jack have been in a room together alone maybe three times, tops, and Sammy could use this opportunity to, to say something, or do something, or touch Jack, he wants to touch Jack so badly –

“Do you guys want beer or soda?”

_Shit._

Jack’s brown eyes tear away from Sammy’s, and energy drains out of Sammy’s chest as he wipes his clammy palms hastily on his jeans. Fuck. They’re never _really_ alone, of course, it’s just an illusion. There’s a wall between the two of them and Lily right now, but walls are thin and Lily is all-knowing.

Sammy still could’ve held Jack’s hand, though, just for a second. Jack might’ve wanted him to. Jack also could’ve reached out himself, but now Lily’s in the doorway and the moment’s over.

“Soda, thanks, I have to drive home in the morning,” Jack says, his voice even like nothing happened.

Well, nothing did happen. A whole lot of _loud_ nothing.

“You’re not staying for lunch?” Sammy wishes he didn’t ask, but the rush of disappointment he feels is stronger than the need to not overly vocalize how much he wants Jack to stay for as long as possible.

“Rugby match at three,” Jack glances over at him for half a second, wincing in apology. “I’ll be back in two weeks.”

Jack lives five hours away, in Atlanta. He’s still in school, but he drives down to visit Lily at least once a month if not more. It’s been pretty often lately, and Sammy isn’t confident enough to say that it’s because of him–

But Sammy also thinks that it might have something to do with him.

“Stevens?”

Lily’s glaring at him, hazel eyes sharp like she knows the exact train of thought in Sammy’s mind that starts and ends with _Jack is so close_. Lily never leaves the two of them alone together if she can help it, which is a little comforting because it means Sammy’s not imagining whatever tension exists between him and Jack.

Lily’s knowledge is mostly terrifying though, because if Sammy ever _did_ reach across the foot of space on the couch that separates him from Jack to take his hand, Lily would probably cut his arm off.

Well, she’d start with the fingers, one by one, then the hand, then the elbow. It would be a torturous and continual process. Sammy’s various appendages would go up on the wall like trophies.

“Soda’s fine for me, too,” Sammy says, mainly because he hates the beer that Lily buys. Lily’s gaze sharpens on him before she turns on her heel back into the kitchen.

They only have a few more moments of freedom, and Sammy steels himself so that he can look at Jack for the full amount of whatever time they have left.

Jack smiles back at him, and Sammy’s struck, as he is every time he looks at Jack, by just how handsome he is. His dark hair framing his face in the way that makes it look like he’s perpetually a model in a photoshoot, crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and dimples in the corners of his cheeks.

His smile is rueful, his eyes flickering between Sammy and the doorway Lily’s bound to come through any moment. He bites his lip, and that only makes Sammy focus on his lips which is a bad place for Sammy’s attention to be right now because –

“Alright, what are we watching tonight? I refuse to watch Friends reruns.”

Lily plops down on the couch right between them, jostling Sammy’s shoulder with her own in a way that Sammy’s sure is purposeful and meant to intimidate. Sammy shifts to the far end of the couch, trying not to fully curl in on himself in retreat.

“As should we all,” Jack supplies, glancing between Lily and the television with a slight laugh. “Just put on Comedy Central – I think they’re rerunning Strangers with Candy this weekend.”

“Classic,” Lily agrees, switching the channel from the cooking network that Sammy only watches when she’s not home and Jack’s five hours away.

No one ribs him for it even though he probably deserves it, so at least Sammy has one admittedly minor victory tonight.

He certainly doesn’t feel victorious when, around midnight when Jack’s yawning and Sammy’s head is lolling, Lily feels the need to remind them that Jack’s sleeping in her room and she’ll be on the couch.

She always reminds them of the proper sleeping arrangements when Jack’s staying over for the weekend, as if Sammy’s going to forget her razor sharp glowering from week to week.

Jack winks at Sammy while Lily’s not looking, and Sammy’s glad he’s sitting down because his knees might’ve actually buckled at that had he been standing.

* * *

“Okay, I’ll see you guys a week from Friday – I have a meeting with my advisor that afternoon so I might be pretty late if you don’t wanna stay up, or if you go out or something –”

“I’ll let you know if I have plans, and Sammy’s never even heard of going out,” Lily says in a blasé tone as Jack slings his duffel bag over his shoulder. Sammy would hit her if she was standing next to him, but he’s leaning against the fridge to keep a respectable distance.

“Otherwise known as, _I’ll_ be here whenever you get here,” Sammy says as evenly as he can while giving Lily a nasty look. “And it remains to be seen whether Lily will.”

“Oh, I will,” Lily says in a voice that leaves no room for argument. Jack rolls his eyes at Sammy over Lily’s head, but she definitely catches it if her scowl is anything to go by. “Alright, get out of here, kid. Drive safe, call me when you get there.”

“Just when I think you don’t care,” Jack says, tone clearly joking. He leans down to kiss Lily’s cheek when she hugs him, and then makes brief eye contact with Sammy as he waves.

And then he’s out the door and Lily’s never heard of positive emotion again as she turns to Sammy with knowing eyes.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Sammy mumbles, staring at the floor instead of her. “I hate it when you look at me like that.”

“I hate it when you flirt with my brother, so I’d say we’re even,” Lily’s voice is somewhat cheerful, but Sammy isn’t fooled. She's going to string his lifeless body up from the ceiling one of these days. Lily moves across the kitchen to pull cereal out of the cupboard, and Sammy steps aside to let her get at the milk.

“If I’m flirting, then he’s flirting back,” Sammy feels the need to point out, even though it makes a blush rise to his face. When he met Jack last year, he thought there would be no way in hell a guy that gorgeous would look twice at him, but Jack –

It’s not like anything’s ever happened. Jack lives nearly five hours away, and they’ve never spent any real time together outside of with Lily.

Still, there’s something between them that’s gone mostly unspoken, but there’s a way that their arms brush when they’re sitting next to each other that Sammy’s sure _means_ something.

“That’s exactly my problem,” Lily points the box of Honey Nut Cheerios in Sammy’s direction. “That you’re both flirting. But _you_ should know better. I don’t know if you’ve remembered, but he’s still in college.”

“Jesus, I graduated six months ago, and he only has a semester left after this one,” Sammy’s shoulders tighten defensively at whatever Lily’s insinuating. “I was in college when we met! Don’t make it sound like I’m cradle robbing, he’s not even two years younger than me. And we’ve never actually _done_ anything other than flirt, so I really don’t know what your issue is.”

“I’m just making sure no one gets hurt here,” Lily says through a full mouth of cereal. Sammy wrinkles his nose to show his disapproval. “He’s a sensitive guy, who always goes in 110% when he cares about something, or some _one_ , and you’re….well, you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m sensitive!”

“Just that you’re not exactly known for taking anything seriously,” Lily explains, still with a mouthful of cereal. Jesus, she’s worse than any macho male roommate Sammy’s ever had when it comes to table manners.

Also, Sammy’s sort of insulted at the insinuation that he wouldn’t take Jack seriously. Or _anyone_ seriously. Since when is Lily an expert on his character? Or his relationships, for that matter? It’s not like Sammy’s had any sort of comparable relationship to Jack in his life, and even if there was something, the feelings Sammy has for Jack mainly involve wanting to melt into him and never stop staring at him for the rest of his life. 

“Don’t think I’m being too hard on you,” Lily’s gaze softens incrementally, and it’s only because Sammy knows her so well that he can even tell. “I’m watching out for you, too. Jack’s graduating in May, and he’s been talking about moving back to California. No weekend trips from San Jose. I know you like him, but you don’t like him _that_ much.”

Sammy very nearly wishes she was right about that. Because the truth of the matter is, he might honestly like Jack _that much._ The idea of Jack going back to California feels like a dulled gut punch twisting in his stomach.

“Look,” Lily sighs, possibly seeing something tragic in Sammy’s expression if her eyebrows rising sympathetically are anything to go by. “We’re just stuck here until August, and then we’ll get a place in Tampa. It’s not the most ideal place in the world, but for Florida? There are plenty of gay bars there for you to meet guys who aren’t my brother.”

She’s saying it to be a comfort, but Sammy just feels the pit in his stomach expand. A sudden punch of misery echoes through his body, causing awful nausea that’s gone as quickly as it comes. 

Sammy can’t articulate why that is to Lily, though, so he just mutters “I guess,” and retreats to his room to sulk for the rest of the day before he has to go back to work on Monday.

* * *

Jack calls him on Wednesday night.

Sammy’s only been physically alone with Jack less than a handful of times, but it’s not like they’ve never had a private conversation. Jack will call him a couple of times a week so that they can catch each other up on Sammy’s coworkers’ drama and Jack’s various group project nightmares, so that Jack can be grateful he has another semester of school and Sammy can be grateful that he’s not a student anymore.

And also so that they can hear each other’s voices. Quite maybe. Possibly.

That hasn’t been articulated, but Sammy likes to think that’s why Jack calls. They generally don’t talk about their feelings, unless it’s an _I can’t wait for you to come next weekend,_ or _when’s the next time I’ll see you? I miss you._

Those are the most candid things Sammy’s ever said to Jack, and even though they’re relatively minor in the grand scheme of things, they feel weighty and significant to Sammy. Jack’s the only person he’s ever felt like this about – like all the clichés in romcoms that Sammy always thought would never apply to him.

During this week’s call, Jack pauses midway through his story about his roommate’s girlfriend and says “Hey, so – I sort of have this idea.”

A fuzzy, not altogether unpleasant feeling goes through Sammy’s chest as he sits up a little straighter in his desk chair. He’s alone in his bedroom, but he’s all too aware that Lily’s only a room away.

Still, she’s not an omnipresent force who knows absolutely everything about Sammy’s life as she breathes down his neck, even though it feels like that sometimes.

“You can say no,” Jack says, sounding nervous which Jack rarely does, and Sammy’s heart rises up to his throat. “But I thought….it’d be nice to spend some time together….without my sister looming over us?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sammy laughs weakly, all too aware of the implications of Jack’s words. He sometimes has moments of doubt about Jack liking him back especially when he hasn’t talked to Jack in a few days, but Jack generally disproves theory whenever they see one another, seemingly mirroring Sammy in awkwardness and smiles. “I’m not sure how you plan on doing that unless you hire someone to kidnap her for the weekend.”

“I’ve got a bit of an easier plan,” Jack says, though he’s giggling, probably because Lily would never let someone kidnap her and would instead murder anyone who tried. “My roommate just told me that he’s going to his parents’ house on Friday. And I thought….maybe you could come and see me for a change.”

Sammy’s mouth goes dry.

That’s – that’s actually a thing, a thing that could happen, with a concrete date that’s two days from now. It’s very much real, and a possibility, and one that Sammy could confirm into being in just a few short minutes.

Sammy takes an unsteady breath, wiping his hands on his jeans when he notices that they’re clammy. He’s glad Jack’s not actually here to see his visceral anxiety.

“Sammy?” Jack says tentatively after a second, and then Sammy remembers that he hasn’t even responded.

“I – yeah, I – yeah, that would be….” Sammy searches for the right word, but the one closest to how he feels is _vomit-inducing_ but that’s not what he wants Jack to think of him. “ _Great_. That would be so great, Jack. Um. I have no idea what I’ll tell Lily since I rarely go anywhere –”

Clearly, there is no world in which Sammy can tell her the truth.

Jack knows that too, since his response is “You could just tell her nothing. She’s your roommate, not your helicopter mom.”

“More like extremely strict stepfather who isn’t even my real dad,” Sammy mutters under his breath and Jack laughs, loud and bright, and Sammy swoons even through the fucking phone line. “Only when it comes to you, though. Then I’m not her real dad who has to pick her up when she gets too hammered and give her lectures about sobriety.”

Jack giggles again. God. He has to realize how cute that is and how much Sammy cannot handle it right now. “Seriously, though. Just tell her you’re going away for the weekend. Minimal details.”

“Then she’ll suspect it’s you, and I’ll come home to a bear trap in the doorway,” Sammy grumbles, unfortunately probably not too far from the truth. “I – I’ll think of something, though. I work until four on Friday, so I won’t get there until after nine, but….but if you want me to come…”

Sammy clears his throat, wondering the level of genuine that it’s safe to be right now.

Jack’s always felt safe to Sammy.

“I’d love to,” Sammy says in complete honesty, and he thinks he can hear Jack’s smile through the phone.

* * *

“So you’re…..going to your _hometown_? I’m sorry, I’m confused. I thought you were never speaking to your dad again.”

“I’m not,” Sammy says, forceful. This honestly feels like planning a heist, even though literally all he has to do is lie to Lily about where he’s going after work on Friday. “I’m not seeing my parents. Just visiting friends.”

“ _Who_?”

“You don’t know them,” Sammy says quickly, forcing himself to make eye contact so it doesn’t seem like he’s purposefully hiding anything. “ A bunch of people from the school newspaper are getting together. It’s not a big thing. Don’t worry about it, I’m not setting foot near my dad and I’ll be home on Sunday.”

“Alright,” Lily squints at him, clearly a little suspicious, but now Sammy thinks he’s probably made her worried that he’s gonna go tell his parents he’s decided not to be gay anymore and ask them to take him back into the clan.

Which is the complete and total opposite of what Sammy’s doing, which he’s pretty sure is going to involve, at the very least, making out with her brother.

Maybe. If he’s lucky. And doesn’t die from anxiety before that can happen. 

He doesn’t want Lily to think he’s going to beg for forgiveness from his family, but that would make Lily sympathetic rather than homicidal, which is how she’d feel if she knew Sammy was going to see Jack.

“I’m really just going because there’s a guy from the newspaper that I think is gay and I want to know for sure,” Sammy says, because that’s an urge Lily can relate to.

That seems to please her, and they discuss gaydar over beers for the next hour and whether Sammy had a crush on this guy in high school. Sammy barely has to make anything up, and honestly gets a little invested in Chris from the newspaper who is very much a real person who might be gay, but Sammy’s certainly not seeing him this weekend.

Thankfully, Lily only had a day’s notice, and that doesn’t give her time to get suspicious again.

* * *

Sammy leaves work at 4:06 on Friday and proceeds to have a four hour long panic alone in his car.

Blasting the radio only helps so much. Sammy works in a radio station, but in the basement as a marketing assistant and nothing else, even though he desperately wants to be on the air. The radio helps distract him, at the very least.

It’s going to be fine. It really is. Maybe something will happen, maybe nothing will happen, maybe it’ll be perfect, maybe it’ll be awkward, but at least after this weekend, Sammy will _know._

God, he hopes it’s good. He doesn’t know how it can be, with as nervous and inexperienced and messy as he is, but Jack’s the most lovely person Sammy’s ever met. Jack’s kind, and passionate, and a little weird but in a way that’s fun and exciting, and maybe his best friend after Lily. Definitely his best friend after Lily.

Even if Sammy manages to fuck this up and be terrible and awkward, he knows Jack won’t make him feel like shit over it.

Still, Sammy desperately wants Jack to still like him in two days’ time, because he _knows_ he’ll still like Jack. Maybe he’ll always like Jack. He doesn’t know how this whole thing is supposed to work. He’s never been this close before.

Sammy hasn’t been to Atlanta in years, but the traffic’s calmed down by the time of night Sammy gets to Jack’s side of town. He has to squint at the numbers on the apartments in an attempt to find the right one, the sun fully set now. It’s November, Sammy had barely driven in daylight to get here.

He finds the right place eventually – or at least he hopes he does. It’s only a mile from campus and it’s the right address, so Sammy’s almost certain this has to be it. It’s a building not dissimilar to his and Lily’s brownstone, though a little smaller.

Sammy’s relieved when he buzzes up to the apartment number Jack gave him and he hears Jack’s voice, cheerful and pleased, filter through the speaker and say “Hey, come up!” when he buzzes him in.

Sammy can’t swallow, legs feeling wobbly as he walks up the stairs, and he’s having more than a little trouble getting in a good breath. He rolls his shoulders back a few times to psych himself up before he knocks on Jack’s door.

It opens after his second knock, and then Sammy’s met with Jack’s bright smile, at least half as nervous as Sammy’s, which comforts him to an indescribable level. They’re both in a similar boat here.

“Hey,” Jack’s a little breathless in the doorway. He looks great, but he always looks great. He’s wearing a t-shirt from his rugby team that’s tight at his biceps and dark jeans, his dark hair a little wet like he showered recently.

Sammy’s all too aware he’s spent five hours in a car and is still in his too tight button-down from work, but he tries to push the insecurity out of his mind.

“Hi,” Sammy hopes he doesn’t sound like his heart’s hammering in his chest.

Jack shifts from one foot to another, giving Sammy a long but maybe appreciative look, Sammy can’t be sure. “Um – come in?”

“Yeah,” Sammy says, stepping in the doorway as Jack quickly steps aside, a slight blush on his cheeks.

The apartment is a little smaller than Sammy’s, no wall between the kitchen and living room, but it’s cozy. There are books strewn across the table that must be Jack’s, because Jack is smart and likes reading, and crumpled papers accompanying them. Sammy can see down a short hallway that there are three doors – two bedrooms and a bathroom, presumably.

“Thanks for – um – driving all the way here,” Jack says as he shuts the door behind Sammy. “It’s a bigger ask for you since you work full-time so….thanks.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair, and wow, that’s too much for Sammy to look at even though Jack’s clearly doing it anxiously.

“No, no, it’s not a big deal,” Sammy says, even though it is, though not for the reasons Jack just said. “I’m – I’m really glad I came.”

Jack smiles, fleeting and nervous, before he laughs, and Sammy has to join in because this whole situation is just a little too weird.

“Wow, this is very…” Jack bites his lip and Sammy looks at his lips and this is really going go downhill fast. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds, Sammy blushing and feeling like he’s maybe on fire until Jack says “Are you hungry? We can order a pizza and watch a movie, or else if you’re not too tired –”

“Pizza sounds great,” Sammy says sincerely. They’re able to avoid each other’s eyes as Jack goes to order, and Sammy goes through Jack’s DVD collection on the ground.

Sammy picks out Pulp Fiction, because he already knows both he and Jack like the film even though they’ve never watched it together because Lily hates John Travolta with a burning passion for no apparent reason.

However, even though Lily is not here, she manages to make her presence known.

Because Sammy and Jack still sit a foot apart on the couch, and they do not reach out to touch each other the whole time the movie plays.

A fucking pizza box of all things sits between them, and Sammy convinces himself that because Jack put it here, it means Jack doesn’t want Sammy to touch him.

“Um, you can sleep in my room,” Jack says when the movie’s over, and then quickly stammers, “I – I mean that I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed, that’s – um – that’s what I. Um. Meant.”

“Oh,” Sammy tries not to show any disappointment, instead pretending that this was clearly the plan all along. Why would he and Jack have any other sleeping arrangement? They’re just friends, obviously. “That’s – okay. Thank you. You don’t – um – have to.”

It’s all for the best, Sammy tries to tell himself as he brushes his teeth and sits alone in Jack’s bedroom. It’s hard to think that when he’s surrounded by Jack’s clothes and paranormal books and movie posters, everything just _Jack_ all around him.

But what would Sammy have done even if he’d had the courage, anyway? Sure, maybe Sammy could hold Jack’s hand – he’d never done that with a guy before, but there was no talent involved in that. No ambiguity. It was all pretty straightforward.

If Jack had wanted to go somewhere further from there, though, if he’d _kissed_ Sammy, or more –

Well, that was entirely different. That was out of the realm of Sammy’s comfort levels, and even though he desperately wants to kiss Jack, he also feels nauseous considering it.

So Sammy tells himself that sleeping alone is actually a good thing, even though he can’t sleep for hours as he thinks about how he’s lying on Jack’s pillow right now and it smells just like the cologne Jack wears.

Jesus. He’s so stupid.

* * *

Thankfully, the morning is a little less awkward. It’s like they’ve gotten their bearings and remembered that they are, in fact, good friends who talk often and enjoy spending time together. Jack brings Sammy to the café down the street for brunch, which is apparently a cool student hangout. Sammy makes fun of Jack’s athlete’s diet and Jack steals a couple of Sammy’s pancakes in retaliation.

After they eat, Jack walks him around the campus, pointing out various buildings that are the settings of various stories about his life that Sammy’s heard but this is the first time he’s getting a visual. They take a bus downtown so Sammy can see the city highlights since the last time he was here, he was younger than twelve.

They talk about the things they do on the phone, or when they’re with Lily – Sammy’s annoying job, Jack’s annoying classes, the most recent episode of Lost. It’s easy and familiar and Sammy thinks that even if he goes home without even brushing shoulders with Jack, he’ll still call this trip a success.

He’s alone with Jack, and that’s a miracle in itself, honestly.

“Here, let’s go walk down by the river,” Jack nods to Sammy’s right, gesturing down the street that will lead them out of the downtown area. “It’s really pretty – you’ll like it.”

Jack smiles almost shyly and Sammy’s heart expands at the sight.

“You’re right,” Sammy says a few minutes after they hit the path the river sits on. It’s a pretty sight, winding through the city, much more attractive than any place in northern Florida. “It’s really nice.”

“There are some trails nearby in the park, if you want – I know you like nature stuff,” Jack says, and Sammy cocks his head curiously at him.

“How’d you know that?” Sammy asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t give off big outdoorsy vibes, mainly because he hates hunting and fishing. But he likes being outside, and enjoys hiking especially.

Jack shrugs, biting his lip again. God, he needs to stop doing that for Sammy’s sanity. “Just the way you talk about stuff like that. I don’t know. I mean, you don’t advertise your interests super clearly – unlike me, who might as well have a flashing sign that says _talk to me about Bigfoot –_ so I just had to learn to listen a little better when you talked.”

“Oh,” Sammy feels a swooping sensation in his stomach that he knows without analyzing means that he’s really in too deep now.

“Is that weird?” Jack looks genuinely concerned for a second. “Sorry, I just – I pay too close attention, sometimes. Bad habit.”

“Not a bad habit,” Sammy corrects, and even though he and Jack are keeping an even pace as they walk, he takes half a step closer so that they nearly brush against each other. “You’re….you’re, um. Sweet.”

That’s such a dumb word, and doesn’t even cover half of how lovely Sammy thinks Jack is, but Jack grins over at him in relief all the same, and their shoulders brush for just a second.

It’s on purpose, Sammy can tell from the rueful look on Jack’s face. He did that on purpose.

Sammy leans closer to brush them again, and wishes that they were back in Jack’s apartment so that Sammy could take his hand. If they were alone, he’d do it right now.

As it stands, they’re in public, and the idea of taking Jack’s hand in public makes Sammy physically dizzy but –

“Could we, um, go back to your place?” Sammy plucks up the courage to ask, hoping Jack grasps the subtext.

Jack nods, eager and smiling. Sammy’s not sure what he was worried about – their entire relationship up to this point has relied on subtext. Of course Jack would understand.

They wander back in the direction of campus, and Sammy makes a decision.

He’s going to kiss Jack in the doorway of his apartment. The second they’re alone again, when the door closes, before he has time to talk himself out of it or for any stray pizza boxes to separate them again. It doesn’t matter what Lily thinks, or her voice in his head reminding him that Jack is her little brother, and he might not even be nearby much longer anyway.

But Sammy drove all the way here and he’s not leaving without kissing the guy he likes, as terrifying as that idea is.

The last time Sammy kissed a guy it had gone all kinds of sideways, but Sammy’s not going to think about that right now. He’s going to think about Jack, and the way he smiles, and the way he’ll rattle off statistics about Bigfoot sightings until you stop him, and how Sammy’s never felt as happy or safe as he does when Jack’s on the phone telling him another inane story.

Sammy is going to kiss Jack when they’re alone again. Right away. In that very second. He will. He _will_.

* * *

Sammy distinctly does not do that.

They get back to Jack’s apartment, Jack holds the door for him on the way up with an embarrassed grin that makes Sammy’s gut twist in anticipation, and then the door shuts behind them and Sammy doesn’t kiss him.

Or do anything. Anything at all. He just stands there like the moron that he is. 

“Do you want a beer?” Jack asks, walking toward the kitchen and Sammy tentatively follows as he curses his lack of initiative. “I know you have to drive home tomorrow but it’s still afternoon, and – and do you have to go right away in the morning?”

“No,” Sammy says quickly, because even though he’s internally berating himself for chickening out, he can at least say something to show that he wants to be here for romantic reasons. Or imply it. “I can stay as long as you want me here.”

Jack’s smile is a little strained as he hands Sammy a beer, a much less disgusting one than the ones Lily tends to buy for their apartment. “I mean….probably not _that_ long, since I’m sure you have to work Monday.”

Sammy bites his lip, trying not to smile too much at the insinuation. God, he and Jack should really start vocalizing things instead of just letting them sit, but this is already the most stressed out Sammy’s been in months. And he’s barely _done_ anything.

He and Jack make small talk about the city for a few minutes before Sammy’s mouth works faster than his brain. He wanted to say something meaningful, and apparently his subconscious is taking him _here._

Jack’s making a comment about not wanting to be in Atlanta forever, and Sammy wishes he doesn’t ask, but absolutely does, “Lily says you’re thinking about moving back to California? When you graduate?”

Sammy hates himself, because he honestly doesn’t want to know the answer to the question. The idea of Jack being across the country hurts more than Sammy will admit even in his own mind. 

Jack blinks at him a couple times, setting his beer down on the kitchen table between them.

“Um, well,” Jack frowns. “Not really? I’ve talked about it a couple times as a possibility, but not like, a super serious one. My parents want me to move back, but that’s – I mean, that’s not their call. I was actually – um – _actually_ thinking –”

Now Jack’s the one looking uncomfortable and regretful, and Sammy doesn’t know how to reach out for his hand but –

He manages to touch their feet together under the table, and not just for a moment. He keeps his foot there, pressed against Jack’s, and Jack looks across at him through his eyelashes with an unreadable expression.

“What?” Sammy asks, voice softer than he intended.

Jack doesn’t quite meet his eyes when he says, voice also a bit lower and soft around the edges, “Well, Lily’s moving to Tampa and in August and I thought – I thought maybe I would, too.”

Sammy feels too hot for his skin, and he honestly thinks his ears might start buzzing. He doesn’t think he’s heard anything more wonderful in all his life, but he also thinks that maybe he’s going to faint or throw up or something equally mortifying.

“To be close to Lily,” Jack says, but there’s an implication there, one that Sammy understands that neither of them are capable of saying out loud.

“Lily,” Sammy says, too slow. “Well, um. I think you might have to put up with me as well, since our plan is to go together.”

“I think we can hack that,” Jack says, and his eyes slightly move away from Sammy’s face like he’s a bit embarrassed. Sammy understands, but he also doesn’t because Jack has to know how much Sammy likes him. He has to.

They’re quiet for a second before Sammy says, because he doesn’t know how to continue in this vein because it’s so much pressure, “Do you want to watch TV or something?”

Jack looks contemplative for a second before he says, unexpectedly “No.”

“No?” Sammy asks, feeling a little worried that the subtext has changed and Jack’s taking everything that hasn’t been said back but not being able to reconcile that with what Jack just told him –

And then Jack leans across the table between them, tentatively cups Sammy’s cheek with a large calloused hand, and angles Sammy’s face up to meet Jack’s.

_Oh._

Jack’s kissing him. Jack Wright is kissing him. Sammy _thinks_ he’s kissing Jack back but he can’t be entirely sure because he’s too lightheaded for that kind of perception right now. He does bring a hand to the back of Jack’s head, and his hair is soft to the touch. Sammy closes his eyes.

“Was that okay?” Jack sounds worried when they break apart a few minutes later. _Minutes._ Jack’s tongue had been in Sammy’s mouth. _Jesus._

Sammy tries to say _that was amazing_ or _that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me_.

What comes out is “Lily’s gonna murder me.”

That surprises a laugh out of Jack, genuine with eyes crinkling as he leans away from Sammy, no longer touching his face. Sammy misses the contact immediately. Jack sits back down across the table and says “Not exactly the response I was hoping for, but to be fair, she’s also gonna murder me. So I see the cause for concern.”

“You’ll be fine, you’re her baby brother who can do no wrong,” Sammy tells him, wishing that he’d said one of the other things. “I promise I’m the only one dying in our current predicament.”

“What?” Jack chuckles, waggling his eyebrows. “Are you some sort of corrupting influence?”

“I guess,” Sammy shakes his head. Why didn’t he just tell Jack how wonderful that was instead of go _here,_ a place he doesn’t need to go right now? Apparently his subconscious is _very_ worried, probably rightfully so. “She’s insane, but she’s also lethal, and I’m not going to survive this.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m an adult who can make my own decisions about who I want to be with and she can fuck off,” Jack’s laughing, but there’s a gravity to his voice too, like he’s leaving no room for argument. “I’m not some sort of blushing virgin here.”

Unfortunately, Sammy can’t help the deep red, highly embarrassing flush that takes over his entire body, and has to stare at the table instead of Jack.

God. Lily’s an easy topic compared to this.

“Sammy?” Jack asks when he’s been quiet for a few seconds, sounding genuinely, sweetly concerned.

Sammy –

Sammy knows that to get any further in the direction he wants to go with Jack, he needs to swallow his fucking pride.

“Um, no,” Sammy wishes the awkward, miserable, high-pitched laugh didn’t come out of his mouth, but it definitely _did_. “That’s me. Actually.”

“ _Oh_.”

Sammy doesn’t look, and he feels a sudden burst of certainty that Jack’s absolutely going to tell him that this was nice, but he’s not interested in taking this any further –

And then Jack leans his head up from the table and kisses him again, briefly this time, but Sammy’s shocked enough that it feels longer.

Sammy blinks at Jack in surprise, and now Jack’s eyes are blown wide, and when he sits back down, he takes Sammy’s hand in his own and squeezes.

Oh, good. Someone finally did that. The hand-holding. Jack’s hands are calloused, but soft, too. Gentle. He even laces their fingers together.

“I’m sorry, that was like – super demeaning of me, now that I have the necessary context here,” Jack squeezes his hand again. “I honestly didn’t mean it like that. I just meant – Lily’s always treating me like I’m a kid. Not that having sex means you’re an adult or anything – just that she’s always thought of me as, like, fragile.”

“I think she called you _sensitive,_ ” Sammy says a little tentatively, which makes Jack roll his eyes and groan, though clearly at the idea of Lily and not anything happening here.

“Of course she did,” Jack shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to equate sex with that, though. It’s fine that you haven’t – I mean, I’m sort of surprised. The way Lily makes it sound you’ve had _various_ sexual escapades with all kinds of guys –”

“I’ve sort of, um, stretched the truth with Lily a couple times, when we were younger,” Sammy bites his lip, hating his younger self for putting current Sammy in this situation. “I’ve had the opportunity, but like – I went home with a guy once and had a full-blown panic attack before we even did anything. I guess I’m just lucky he was a nice guy who drove me home instead of anything worse.”

Jack’s eyes widen in concern and Sammy quickly adds “That’s because I was drunk and didn’t know his name, that’s not – I mean – I _know_ you, Jack. I like you. _Really_ like you. That’s not – I mean – if you wanted to….you know….that wouldn’t happen. With us.”

“It would be okay if it did,” Jack says, too sweet. Sammy squeezes his hand, still laced with his own. “I don’t – I mean, you don’t have to be intimidated. Or anything. If you even are. I don’t know if you are but, like – my experience isn’t extensive. I had one boyfriend, for four months. That’s it.”

“It’s just sort of embarrassing,” Sammy admits, shifting his shoulders slightly. He hadn’t exactly planned on telling Jack _any_ of this, but they’re here. They’re actually having a conversation instead of letting implication speak for itself. Sammy can’t go back now. “I mean, I’m twenty-three.”

“And you’re gay, and you live in Florida,” Jack fills in for him with a sympathetic squeeze of his hand. “It’s not the easiest place in the world to find someone. I’m not judging you for it. I’m one chance meeting with a guy in my calc class away from being in the same boat, so don’t even worry about that.”

“Thanks,” Sammy finds it in him to smile at Jack, because even though this could’ve gone _a lot_ smoother, Jack’s….

Jack’s sort of perfect. Not in an actually perfect way, but a stumblingly, nervously, awkwardly perfect way.

“Jesus, I’m so nervous now,” Jack laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he leans closer to Sammy. “This is so much pressure, I just – not that we have to do it now, or tonight. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with but – I mean, I want to make it great for you. Not that I didn’t before but – I mean, if we’re gonna do this, if I’m gonna be your first time – you’ll remember it forever. It should be perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure no one’s first time is perfect,” Sammy says, even as he swoons a little at the genuine conviction in Jack’s face, the stubborn set of his jaw. “Besides, it’s not like I have anything to compare it to.”

“I don’t mean perfect like that, I mean – I want you to always remember it as being with someone who really cares about you,” Jack says, and apparently their kiss was like floodgates, because now Jack is just _saying_ things like this and Sammy’s sure he’ll never recover. “Even if we never speak again, I’d want you to remember it as a good experience. Not that I think we’d never – I mean – I don’t just wanna hook up, I want to like – date you. If that’s okay.”

Jack’s stammering a little, but Sammy stares at him in honest surprise, not because that’s out of character for Jack, but just because that was never something that got communicated in their months of subtext. Exactly what they wanted from each other. It had always been _something_ – but a vague, unexplained something.

Dating, though.

Dating _Jack_.

“I know we don’t live in the same city,” Jack continues, “but we – we _could._ Really soon, we could.”

“Jack,” Sammy interrupts, a little lightheaded but very certain. “We will. If you – if you want –”

“Of _course_ I want.”

Sammy takes a deep, surprisingly steady breath. “Well, then. I did drive all the way here. And we’re having a very clandestine, secret weekend together. And Lily is going to choke me to death in less than two days when she discovers what we’ve kept hidden from her, but right now….we’re the only two people here.”

Sammy leans in this time, because he’s determined to show that he has courage here, too. It’s not a lot, and it always comes and leaves too quickly, but it’s more than enough to stand up, take Jack’s face in his shaking hands, and kiss him.

Sammy’s leaning down, but that quickly changes as Jack stands up without stopping the kiss, and he’s tall enough that Sammy’s quickly angling his head up into Jack instead of the other way around. It’s nice, especially when Jack puts his hands on Sammy’s hips.

Jack smiles into the kiss, and Sammy doesn’t panic. He just feels a steady thrum of excitement, and the warmth of Jack’s hands on him. 

“Well, when you put it like that…”

* * *

“So how are the high school buds?”

Lily’s question is entirely too snide as Sammy shuts the apartment door behind him, slinging off his duffel bag. Lily’s sitting at their kitchen table, eyebrow quirked like she’s been waiting there to ambush him and she knows every word he said was a lie.

It’s just paranoia, Sammy rationalizes. Lily always sounds snide and judgmental, that’s her whole deal. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, Lily’s going to judge it.

Especially if it involves her brother, but really, she could be being snide about _anything._ She might know, but she might not.

“Fine,” Sammy says, keeping his voice even and blasé as if the question doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Boring, mostly.”

The opposite of boring. All Sammy’s been able to think about the whole way home is how Jack kissed him goodbye in the doorway, hands in Sammy’s pockets, laughing into his mouth and promising to see him on Friday.

Sammy has no fucking clue how they’re going to manage to hide this from Lily. She’s going to take one look at them and just _know._

Still, on the bright side, Sammy’s going to die knowing that Jack likes him back, with the memory of waking up to Jack kissing him good morning.

And it seems like he might have five more days before Lily figures it out, since she’s returned to the book in her hands without giving Sammy a second glance. Maybe he got away with it.

“Just so you know,” Lily says when Sammy crosses the kitchen to get to the fridge, in possibly the most smug, self-congratulatory voice Sammy has ever heard from her, and that’s saying _a lot_ , “You have a hickey.”

_Fuck._


End file.
